Weekend Pass
by Iresol
Summary: Black  Hawk  Down  fic:  Takes  place  post  movie  where  Sanderson  attends  OCS  and  gets  a  weekend  leave.  Pure  fluff.
1. Chapter 1

_Authors Note: Ok, here is it, a shameless filthy fluffy one-shot. I hadn't written one in so long I had to do one. But there is a plot. After reading Black Hawk Down, and about the man the character that Sanderson was based on, I've decided to do this. Mind you that man did not go to OCS, and he's retired from the Army, so this here is my creativeness, but his personality was utterly great. He's my hero, too bad he's married. So enjoy, but not too much, and review as much as you like! _

**Thursday Night.**

**The swamps of Louisiana.**

The sound of fans filled the hot and humid summer night as a cell phone that woke the widowed Diana Gibson up. It was between night and day and pitch black out. Occasionally the sound of North American Alligators would be heard over the fans.

It was the theme from _Beverly Hills Cop_.

It was Sanderson.

Exhausted and sweaty she rolled over on the worm and lumpy mattress that once belonged to her husband in his youth. Her hand bumped around till it found the noisy phone. She opened it and put it against her ear, yawning, "Yeah?"

"I woke you up."

She pushed the dark hair that was plastered to her face and neck with sweat away, "Sleep is for the weak. What's going on?"

There was a pause.

Hesitation.

"How are the kids?"

She opened her eyes and kicked the paper-thin sheet off but didn't sit up. "Momma G is overfeeding and spoiling them all. What's going on? You sound depressed, are you not being stimulated enough?"

She heard him laugh softly and let the fans blow air on her, feeling like a beached whale in the heat.

He wasn't far. The Officer Candidate School was only a couple states away. But he sounded as if he were millions of miles away. He sounded utterly destitute, miserable.

"I haven't been stimulated since I got here. The PT is a joke. The classes are…amusing. The food sucks and I had to get a haircut"_ Send me into combat any day_ were his unspoken words. He was back in the regular Army and the assimilation was hard. Not to mention no one else had the experience he did, or any sort of clue. Most were half his age or fresh from college.

"Have your fellow Green beans taken you to see the local talent?"

He couldn't even joke, he was that miserable.

"Diana…I…I don't know. Maybe I'm not officer material. This place is pissing me off more then anything." There was a pause and whatever he was going to say died on his lips. She propped herself up on one elbow in the dark of the room. Sweat already collecting between her cheek and the phone.

"Why don't I drive over tomorrow?"

He snorted, "I'm in the middle of butt-fuck-nowhere. What are you guys going to do? There is nothing for the kids to do here. There's not even a Wal-Mart."

It took ever last ounce of willpower, and the fact that she was sleepy helped her from snapping at him and his testy mood. The man was obviously bored, frustrated, and miserable. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes as best she could she quickly calculated the time it would take to drive and inquired, "Can you get off quarters for the weekend?"

There was a pause.

She then told him, "I'll drive over tonight and will be there in the afternoon or so. Get us a hotel room and get off quarters."

"Ok."

She closed the phone and lay back down on the lumpy mattress. Blowing out her breath in a rush. A noise got her attention and she rolled her head to the side seeing Momma G. "What's wrong chil? I heard da phone."

Diana nodded, "Jeff's having second thoughts about being an officer. I'm gonna drive out and spend the weekend with him. Will you be ok with all our kids?"

The voluptuous woman waved off her question.

She then set her hands on her hips, "I better go pack you some food. An Jeff some too, they prob'ly ain't been feedin him correctly."

"Probably not," Diana agreed.

**Meanwhile…**

**A few hundred miles away, Army Officer Candidate School.**

In the darkness of the common area Jeff hung up the pay phone. A soft sigh came from him as he leant against the wall and wished more then anything else he hadn't been granted a _Special Circumstance Pass_ for the school. He was well aware the only reason he was in the course was his previous work. He thought he had wanted to be an officer. But he was miserable. Not because the classes were difficult, they weren't. The PT was a breeze and he'd been off quarters for the duration of his time.

The regular Army pissed him off.

Not only did he have to get a haircut and start wearing a uniform, and addressing people by rank: the little robotic candidates like himself were really getting annoying. Only one or two had a real thought in their head, and didn't have their lips permanently attached to someone's higher-ranking butt. Then there were the ones who wanted careers within the Pentagon, forget leading and combat. Those were his favorite. The ones with absolutely no experience but apparently knew everything.

His fingers danced over the black phone. He really didn't want to go back to his room. As the highest-ranking NCO he had no roommate. Along with the fact the commanding officer of the school was a friend and knew what unit he had come from.

The others were starting to figure out that he wasn't in the Army Corps of Engineers. Since he was the size of a professional football player. Outscored all of them at PT. Had quite a collection of battle scars. And was nothing like the real NCO from the Army Corps of Engineers that was in the program. No one was brave enough to ask him what he did just yet though.

He glanced down at his watch.

03:25.

There was plenty of time to get in a brisk ten-mile run and trip to the gym for some weight training before the PT began at 05:30. He wanted to get his leg back to full strength and the PT alone wasn't going to be enough. He could sneak out and back in with plenty of time to spare, he might even have time for a nice long shower.


	2. Chapter 2

**Friday afternoon.**

Diana pulled into a visitor parking spot and nearly died when she stepped out of the car in the hot southern summer heat. 106 degrees with a hundred percent humidity. Swearing beneath her breath as she left behind the air-conditioned comfort of her car. She slammed her door and pulled her dark hair up in a bun, getting it off her neck, which was beginning to perspire.

Muttering a thanks between profanities that the barracks were close, she hauled it across the scorching parking lot. Feeling the heat of the concrete beneath her pink flip-flops.

When she got to the front door it opened and a young men of maybe twenty-one gave her the brightest smile in the world. It almost blinded her. "Afternoon ma'am, how may I help you?"

His young wandering eye was not lost on Diana. She gave him a toothy smile, "I'm here to pick up my booty-call. Where do I sign him out at?"

The young men's ears turned pink. A giggle could not be suppressed as he led Diana into the barracks and towards the front desk. He took a clipboard from the desk. Grabbed a pen, gave both to her and inquired, "Who're you picking up?"

In flowing cursive she signed her name, Jeff's name, the date and pertinent information. She glanced up with her eyes, "Sergeant Major Jeff Sanderson."

The young man paled and looked deathly ill against the pale green of his uniform. Amused, Diana asked as she looked back to her task, "Has he not been behaving himself?"

Acknowledging that Jeff was of higher rank he nodded, "Yes yes ma'am, he-he's been an inspiration. I I ju-just didn't think the Sergeant Major had a girlfriend."

Diana purred and handed the young man, Johnson, according to his black name badge, the clipboard. "Can I go pick him up? Or does he had to be summoned?"

"He-he's having, he's having his room inspection before he can leave."

Diana raised both her eyebrows.

She could only imagine what that would do to his already testy mood. She glanced around the common area and saw battered old couches, a TV, bookshelves, a pay phone, and quite a bit of plaques and pictures. Curious she walked over to the plaques and Johnson followed her.

"Are you married Mrs…?"

Diana's eyes traveled over the pictures of graduated classes that filled an entire wall. "Mrs. Gibson. No, not anymore."

"You still have your wedding band on," young Johnson helpfully pointed out.

Diana glanced at the young man. Utterly enthralled at the young man, when she spotted an older officer who spotted her, his jaw dropped, "Diana McKnight," he demanded from across the room.

She smiled brightly, "Hi Ioan."

Colonel Ioan Martin handed the younger officer he had been chatting with a clipboard and crossed the room. He dismissed young Johnson with the wave of his bear sized hand.

He trapped Diana in a tight hug, his girth surrounding her. When he let her go he held her at arm's length, "Sorry to hear about Gibson. He was a really great guy."

Diana smiled and asked, "How's the leg?"

With a grin the larger man lifted his pant leg and revealed the steel that went from his knee down. "It's waterproof! It won't rust. I'm pretty sure I could use it as a weapon if the occasion ever presents itself."

"You can hope," Diana commented and he smirked, "There's always the dream. What are you doing here? You picking up Jeff? Please tell me you're picking him up, he almost took my head off when I told him his bed was not made to regulations."

She bit her lip to stop the grin.

"He'll be with you soon, he's getting smoked right now for that."

"So you're sending him away with me for the weekend exceptionally moody, how can I _ever _ thank you?"

Towering over her he looked down at the woman, "You. Daughter of one Danny McKnight, wife of one Norm Gibson. Jeffy should be a walk in the park. I'm surprised you don't have him better trained."

The look she gave him was pure sarcasm. "Oh yeah, I'll get right on it. Let me just pencil that into my schedule. Like I don't have enough to do already."

For a few minutes the colonel smiled broadly at her. Taking in her joke, and then his smile fell and he was all business. "But, Diana, seriously. You have to do something. He's an asset to the Army. But he's been in that particular unit too long and he's having serious problems. I've sat down several times with the man and he's getting smoked on a daily basis…between you and me, I think he's enjoying it."

She gave him a blank look and began to rub her temples, "Ioan."

He cut her off with the wave of his hand. "Diana. He had the potential to be an amazing officer, he could probably make colonel. The man is brilliant and professional. Once he gets back in the real Army and back into our way of doing things he'll be fine. But…I need you to help get him back on track."

While his concern was touching, Diana pursed her lips. She put her hands firmly on her hips, "I'm a little more concerned about his happiness and general well being over his career."

"Of course, me too."

Diana rolled her eyes. A smart remark was on the tip of her tongue and then she saw Jeff. In that hideous green uniform with a bag over his shoulder. Medals, pins, rope, and ribbons were pinned onto his chest, shoulders, and hat making him look like a Christmas tree. A tall unhappy tree with a buzzed hair cut.

The look on his face said it all. _Someone kill me now before I take out everyone here._

Sanderson came to a stop beside Diana and in something close to a growl acknowledged the colonel, whom he was on a first name basis with weeks earlier, "Sir."

Diana's hand gently touched his waist and found that he not only was as tense as a block of wood, he probably could have been used as a battering ram and he wouldn't have noticed or cared. She gave his taut waist and gentle rub and he met her compassionate eyes.

The colonel gave Diana a knowing look and then addressed Sanderson, "Enjoy your weekend Sergeant Major."

**Friday Night.**

The reservations for the hotel had been made and the selection was slim. There were three hotels in the area. One catered to truckers and was next to a truck stop and mere feet away from the interstate. The second charged by the hour and was in an area that was just a little too lively for Jeff's tastes. The third was a run-of-the-mill Holiday Inn.

He had picked the Holiday Inn that's last renovation was when Nixon was in the White House. But, compared to the other hotels, the Holiday Inn was the Ritz.

Jeff set the bags down and looked around the small, stale and dingy room.

Tired in more ways then one.

He turned as she locked the door and told him, "Go get in bed."

"We need to talk first."

"No," she continued, while she barricaded them in, "We can talk tomorrow. Go. Get. In. Bed."

Finished, she turned and saw that tired and miserable look. She had a lot of work ahead of her. First she took the pale green button up uniform shirt he wore in her hands and directed him backwards, toward the bed with 1960's style comforter. While she directed him she informed him, "There will be absolutely no talk about the Army, the military, or anything until tomorrow." They came to the bed and she pushed him, he didn't fight her, he let himself fall back on the mattress, which seemed to resemble putty in substance.

"Diana," he began.

"Shut-up," she ordered, she climbed onto the bed and straddled his waist. For a few moments he was both confused and surprised. He watched as she began to unbutton his green shirt and got it off, all without his help. Then his white undershirt, "Diana, I'm really not in the mood."

She looked into his worn blue eyes while she worked on unlatching his belt, "Did I say you could speak? No, I didn't."

He placed his hands on her side and she smacked them away. She defeated the belt and had it off and tossed it over her shoulder in a matter of seconds.

"Diana," he began, his hand fell on her arm.

She pulled her arm free and pointed pointedly at him, "What did I tell you about talking?"

He began to sit up and she shoved him back down.

His hand grabbed her's which she took advantage of. She trapped his hand, took his watch off and dropped it on the bed, then tossed his hand back down on the bed. Annoyed, he covered his face with both his hands. He felt her unlace and toss his black dress shoes onto the floor.

Then came his socks and the knife he had sheathed on his ankle.

When he felt his pants unbutton he sat up and was shoved rather roughly back down.

"Diana," he growled, propping himself up on his elbows.

She sat straight and complained, "You're talking again! Make me happy and shut your mouth."

He quieted down and contemplated her for a moment while she finished undressing him from where she was seated. "Look, I know what you're doing. You can't have sex with the unwilling."

She grabbed the TV remote from the bed beside her ankle and turned the TV on. She flipped around till she found ESPN. "Here. Be a good boy and watch the football game. I'll be done in a few minutes and I'll feed you after that…if you don't fall asleep."

"Diana," he whined.

Once again, she pushed him back and pinned his hands above his head. Mere inches away from his face she hissed, "Shut-up." Before he could respond she pushed his face to the side, towards the TV. Allowing her access to his neck, shoulder, and ear and beyond. Which she took advantage of. He moved his arms and she pushed them back into the bedding. He began to move his legs. In an attempt to push her forward. Instead, she pushed herself onto her hands and knees, keeping herself above him.

When he moved his face back towards her she pushed it back.

He pulled his hand free and attempted to sit up, attempting to pull her close. Again, she shoved him back and swatted his hands away. Her fingers expertly spanned the firm expanse of muscle that made up his chest and stomach, followed by her lips.

When his hands found the waistband of her denim shorts she shifted and sat up. Her nails dug into his hips. One last time he sat up, one last time he tried to kiss her. Again, she shoved him back down.

Then he grabbed her wrists. A feeling of pure excitement streaked through her body and before she knew it she was on her back, pinned beneath his solid weight to the mattress. His lips found hers and roughly, for the first time in many weeks, kissed her. Making her respond and match his hunger. Not once did his lips leave her's while he all but ripped the shorts down her legs. They ended up tangled around one of her ankles.

She managed to break his kiss and demand, "I thought you weren't willing?"

He stopped his struggle at getting her bikini cut Hanes down her legs and saw the smile curling at the edges of her lips. "Shut-up," he growled right before he kissed her again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Late Saturday Morning.**

ESPN was still on. It had been on all night long and the TV remote was MIA. Along with Sanderson's pants and the bed pillows. He propped himself on one elbow and surveyed the bed. Realizing in the process that he was famished. He was starving, he hadn't been so hungry in years. He looked over his shoulder and saw the reason why. Which was sleeping. Wrapped in the blanket with her legs intertwined with his.

He fell back on the bed. Wondering whether he had the strength to get up and change the channel. Unsure if he could stand listening to croquet tournament scores any longer.

Instead he poked her arm.

Nothing. She didn't so much as stir. There was no change in her deep breathing. Again he poked her arm with his finger.

She continued to sleep.

He almost felt guilty. That was until he remembered that she had started it. Reaching across the few inches of bed that separated them he took hold of the white sheet she was cocooned in. With ease he pulled her to him by the blanket and elicited a soft moan from her. Her eyes fluttered and her hands reached out, pushing against him as she stretched lazily. She opened her eyes. Looked around and a small smile crept over her lips. Again she moaned, contently. She watched as he propped himself on one elbow and looked down at her, running his fingertips through her thick hair.

"Did you bring me breakfast?"

With another moan she gestured toward her bag. "Momma G packed some Gator Tail and a Pecan Pie. She thinks they're starving you." She watched as he quickly rolled off the bed and padded over the threadbare carpet towards her bag, which had been dropped by the front door.

"She's not wrong," Sanderson murmured.

Diana watched as he dug through her stuff and extracted a cooler, removing two foil wrapped objects and a box of plastic forks. "I may have to go get some water…did you see a drink machine on the way in?"

Amused as his seemingly sudden change in moods. She teased, "Oh yeah, I dare you to go outside like that."

He gave her a look and managed to procure a water bottle from her purse. It was half full but would do.

"Did she send any messages?"

Spreading out on the bed, Diana nodded, "She wants you to send her a General, preferably one that strongly resembled Harrison Ford."

He padded back to the bed and plopped down. Placing a pillow in his lap for a tray, Jeff began to open the Gator Tail wrap. "I thought she got married?"

"I think she killed her husband."

He made a face and the aroma of tangy bite sized Gator Tails filled his nose and his stomach growled, "She did not."

Diana rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow. Declaring, "She won the lotto and he filed for divorce and alimony. He disappeared the next day and they found his watch in the swamp."

After a few bites of perfectly cooked and seasoned gator, Jeff argued, managing not to get food allover, "The sheriff is probably investigating the disappearance."

He speared a piece of gator and held it out for Diana. Who ate it off the fork, countering, "The sheriff is her brother."

Thoughtfully he ate a few more pieces. Then reached the conclusion, "He's dead. She killed him."

Diana gestured and reached into the foil for another piece of meat. Grabbed two and greedily ate them while adding, "The kids are picking up the southern vernacular."

He rolled his eyes, "Dear God."

While chewing she shook her head, "But…they still have their German accents and are swearing in Italian. It's really cute." He gave her a look of concern and she stole another piece of gator. "They're now really into reptiles. Jordan takes the little boat out with Momma G in the morning to hunt lunch. And Daniel will go from puddle to puddle hunting Crawfish."

"I think we may have permanently damaged our children."

Diana waved him off and reached across his lap for her water bottle, "Oh, they're beyond damaged." She took a sip of water and told him, "Eat up cowboy, you're going to need your energy."

His head whipped around, "What about you?"

"I've been on Momma G's Southern Diet for weeks, I need to burn off the food."

He smiled, shook his head, laughed, and turned back to his gator, "How are the girls doing?"

Diana sighed. For a few moments she was silent. He glanced back at her and she replied, "They're fine but…Rachael still isn't really bonded with her sisters, she's much closer to Jordan. The two of them hole away at night and are planning their future."

"World domination?"

She was silent. Which was bad. His eyebrows rose and she replied, "They've been calling recruiters."

He dropped the gator, "Are you serious?"

"All five branches. They're really looking into each service. Jordan seems to be leaning toward the Navy or Marines. Rachael wants something with aviation, fighter jets…I think."

**That afternoon…**

"So, all good behavior and accomplishments need to be rewarded, Dr. Phil says. So my graduation should be met with a reward, a big one."

Having commandeered the bed, Diana peered over the end and cocked an eyebrow in disbelief, "Since when the hell do you listen to Dr. Phil?"

The TV was still on ESPN.

The A/C was on full blast and the cell phones were all plugged into their chargers. That was as far as they had gotten outside the bed and shower. Diana watched as the man she had come to love continued without pause doing his push-ups, his speech unhampered, "One of the guys is reading his book on parenting in the barracks."

Long ago she had stopped counting how many sit-ups, crunches, push-ups, pull-ups and whatnot he did. All she knew was it was a God-awful amount. "And you're going somewhere with this observation?"

For a moment he paused, just long enough to fold one arm behind his back and start doing push-ups on one arm with ease. Not slowing in his speed. Breathing steady, "I should get a reward for all this work."

With a sigh she began to crack her toes. All his exercise almost inspired her to get up and jog, or something. Almost. It would require her to get off the bed. "What do you call this?"

"Incentive."

"Incentive," she murmured, feeling the word out on her tongue, to which she added, "All right, nothing kinky though. I'm not twenty anymore."

She could have sworn he shook his head. She began to swing her legs and promptly dropped them when he said, "I want to get married."

With a groan she whined, "I though we agreed no more weddings. Weren't we going to continue to live in cohabitated bliss?"

He glanced sideways at her and continued his workout.

"Fine, when you make general we'll get married."

"Captain," he countered.

She made a face, "Any idiot can make captain. General."

"Captain," he argued as he switched arms.

Annoyed, she rolled onto her back so she didn't have to look at his short-shorts. Or his muscles while he so effortlessly worked out. She lifted her feet up and viewed her toes with fascination, "Fine, Colonel."

"Bird Colonel."

She calculated that up in her head, rolled over so her hair spilled forward, "Lieutenant Colonel it is."

He paused mid-push-up. "If we wait until I'm a Lieutenant Colonel, then I want to adopt Daniel."

Her eyes darkened as her brows narrowed. "Is this some kind of manly honor thing?"

"Nope. It's a father thing."

Diana scowled and placed her chin on the edge of the bed. He continued his workout and waited for her response. Finally she sighed, "In the event you make a Bird Colonel. In that momentous event. If you still want to get married I'll marry you. We'll see about Daniel."

"What's to see?"

She began to play with the pillows with her toes, "I don't know Jeff…we'll see. I just don't know. He already thinks you're his father. Isn't that enough?"

He thought about it for a few minutes, honestly.

"No."

She glared, "Why do you have to be such a pain in the ass. Leave it to me to pick Mr. I-Always-Do-The-Right-Thing to live in sin with."

Which earned her a curious look. He finished up and rolled onto his back. His face and chest flushed red from the exercise. He hooked his legs up and on the bed, right beside her. Close enough she leant against him and rested her face on his calf.

"I love you."

She glowered, "Don't sweet talk me."

He pulled himself up in the ultimate sit-up. Putting himself face to face with her and gently kissing her lips.

Quietly she told him, "I don't want him to loose a father."

A look of confusion crossed his face and she continued, "I lost my father. Robin and Rachael lost their father, Daniel doesn't remember and I don't want him to loose something he never had to begin with. I don't want to set him up for future pain that I could prevent."

Again he kissed her, he took her face in his strong calloused hands and kissed her until she responded.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sunday morning.**

"Diana…I'm hungry."

She rolled her eyes and peeked out of the small and very yellow bathroom in no more then a worn white towel, demanding, "Well what do you want me to do about it?"

"You made me hungry," he countered.

She scowled and went back in the bathroom, declaring, "I didn't tell you to go on a ten mile run." She then turned her attention to the bathroom mirror and worked on plucking her dark eyebrows. They were naturally well shaped, but there was a rogue hair now and then.

The bathroom door opened and in he strolled. Still wearing the little PT Shorts that hardly covered anything. They just managed to keep the important parts covered. She looked at him in the mirror, catching him peeking at the bottom of her bottom as she leant across the sink. "There's a little diner I saw on my way in. You're going to have to shower. I seriously doubt they'll let you in like that."

His eyes never left her legs, "Did you leave me any hot water?"

"Nope. But there's a spider in there. So you don't have to shower alone."

For a moment he glanced at the worn shower curtain and then grabbed the bottom of her towel and yanked it off. Which prompted her to glance over her shoulder at him, clearly outraged. He used the towel to mop his sweaty face and chest.

She pointed to the uneven rack of towels on the wall.

"Those don't smell nice," he replied, as he hooked the towel around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. She was almost amused. Had he not been so sweaty and gritty she would have been, "I'm going to need another shower now."

"Thank God, I was afraid I'd have to shower alone…I could have drowned."

**The Bon Jovi Roadside Diner…**

Emma-Mae was the waitress.

She strongly resembled Dolly Parton and wore the skimpiest little pink dress under her white apron, Emma-Mae was about sixty years old and had enough make-up on her face to keep Covergirl in business for the next thirty years.

"What can I get you hon," she asked Jeff after taking down Diana's order for a coke and Greek Omelet."

"Are you serving lunch," he asked, his legs entwined with Diana's beneath the small red tabletop. Greasy menu in hand. "Anything for you Sug, we cater to the Army here," she replied with a wink.

Diana beamed at the flirtatious waitress.

Sanderson closed his menu and handed it to her, "Then I'll have a coke and a chili cheese bacon burger with jalapenos."

Emma-Mae smiled sweetly and sauntered off, Diana pouted, "You're going to give me heartburn." She then grinned, "But…if you play this right, you could probably get lucky with Emma-Mae."

With a deep breath he leant forward, completely covering the small corner table. A smile curled over his face when the sound of her shoe hitting the floor was followed by her foot coming to rest on his lap.

"She'd give me lead poisoning," he murmured, "And I doubt she's anywhere near nimble as you are." Then he took her hands from across the table and admired her fingers, her palms, and knuckles. He kissed them, "Thank you for coming over."

With a squeeze she gave him a smile. Everything was in that smile. Assurance and compassion, everything that she knew he'd feel ashamed if she told him aloud. But the look alone told him everything. She'd do anything for him.

**That night…**

Bag over his shoulder, Sanderson strolled casually into the barracks and signed in with the watchman, three minutes before seven, when the NCOs were required to return for inspection, their weekend over.

The watchman glared, "Cutting it a little close are we Sergeant Major Sanderson?"

His gaze was cold.

Jeff beamed at him, "Whatever you say big-boy." He winked and dropped the pen and strolled into the common area, down the hall and towards his room.

Past much younger men and women, all who whispered conspiratorially about where he had been, what he had been doing, and who he had been with.

Colonel Ioan Martin's voice came from an open doorway, "Sergeant Major, you have two minutes to spare. Are you trying to get yourself smoked already?"

Jeff turned and saluted the colonel.

He then replied with, "Definitely sir."

"Did you enjoy your weekend?"

"A gentleman never tells, sir."

With a nod the higher-ranking officer remarked, "I'd get your quarters squared away for inspection."


End file.
